The Panther
by Moonkitty Liafle
Summary: {complete} [Submission for BI fanfic contest] AU; angsty. Heero and Relena are both trapped in their own worlds. How can they escape?
1. Part 1

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Title of Fanfic "The Panther"

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Penname Moonkitty Liafle

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Email address lunarswan@yahoo.com

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Which categories your fic is competing in: Best AU/ Best Drama/ Best Series

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Any Warnings: Rated "R" for mature themes, sexual violence; abuse

A/N: Thank you Miaka Mouse for your excellent beta-reading and constant encouragement. You were spectacular!!! A special thank you to other helpersLauren, kmfthe list goes on =^.^= This kitty is really grateful. To all my readers: thank you for taking the time to read this fic!!!

THE PANTHER

Part I. Exploration of the Cage

When I was in the eighth grade, I stopped talking. I don't know why I did, but it became a game for me. I would refuse to talk to people, and when no one was around, I would crouch down on my knees and whisper to the floor. I had secret conversations with the floorboards and the mice I imagined living underneath. My parents would offer me rewards for talking, make threats, shake me, speak to me, try everything they could get me to say something--anything.

I refused.

I can't remember why.

When I hit freshman year, I started talking again, and by then I had bottled up so many things, that I had quite a bit to say. Within a year, I was popular. Of course I was. I mean, I had everything, right? Why, I had so much, I didn't know what to do with it all. I was in so many clubs, so many honors classes, so many extracurricular activities--I was guaranteed to go to any college I wanted to, guaranteed any boy I wanted, and guaranteed acceptance anywhere I went.

Everybody forgot I hadn't spoken for a whole year, mainly because I was talking so much at the time, it was impossible to imagine me silent.

But all of that changed one day during my junior year of high school.

I had been running to my car from cheerleading practice when I stopped at the library to pick up a book to read.While browsing through the poetry section, I heard a rustling sound in the row just ahead of me. I thought the library was empty, so I decided to investigate. Had a bird flown in?

I wasn't expecting it to be a person, much less a boy. I recognized him instantly of course--he was in most of my classes. I was staring at Heero Yuy, the only boy with a G.P.A. higher than mine, and my rival since freshman year for valedictorian.

And he was staring back.

I had never noticed how blue his eyes were before, or how cold.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know--" I started, feeling stupid.

"Of course you didn't." His reply was very final. He got up to leave.

"What were you doing in the library this late?" I asked, attempting a smile.

He turned his empty gaze back to me. There was a slight pause, "Nothing."

"Did you do the paper for Earlwitz yet?"

He nodded, his eyes wandering back out to the window. I felt horrible.

"Well, I'm sorry to disturb you, Heero, I had better-"

"Yes."

I nodded again, mentally kicking myself. What the heck was I doing?

I left with what was left of my dignity, and in my rush, completely forgot to pick out a book.

I was definitely feeling pretty stupid.

The next day at school, Heero didn't even look at me. I thought that was odd, but I paid it no heed. It was better for both of us if the "Library Incident" was not mentioned again. But something in me stubbornly wanted there to be more. For the first time in my high school career, I had spoken to the elusive Heero Yuy.

In freshman year, all of the girls had had crushes on the dark and handsome Heero. They figured he was shy or nervous around girls, and they were somehow attracted to that. Within a month, they had realized that he regarded everyone with the same distance.

Since then, Heero Yuy had lost all interest from the opposite sex and even from the those of the same sex. Occasionally, Duo Maxwell would talk to him, but everyone knew that Duo would talk to anyone, especially those who didn't talk back.

I sat diagonal to Heero in Chem, so I spent the majority of that class sneaking glances at him. Never once in the whole class period did he ever turn his attention from the teacher. He took careful notes, did the assigned problems- everything the way he was supposed to.

He never looked at or talked to anyone else. His concentration frightened me.

By the time the bell had rung, I'd given up. There was nothing to Heero Yuy. He was a workaholic, nothing more, nothing less. I was looking for something that wasn't there.

I couldn't understand myself. Perhaps there are times when girls occasionally get attracted to introverts, and that was just it--my silly body confusing me. I shrugged it off and took the stairs down to my next class, resolute to think non-Heero thoughts for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, Fate managed to grant my wish in the worst way imaginable.

I was passing a staircase when an arm reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into the dark.

Okay, yes, I admit it. I am claustrophobic; sometimes just extreme light changes set it off. I tried to scream, but a hand was over my mouth. I felt the owner of the arm pull me up against him. His breath tickled in my ear as he whispered, "Promise not to scream?"

I nodded blindly.

The hand was removed from my mouth and the grip loosened. I pulled back, recognizing my would-be assailant by the light that filtered through the gaps between the stairs--

__

Davey!

My fear remained, "Davey."

"_Relena_," he replied, mimicking my cold tone, "Shit, I thought you'd be glad to see me."

The hand on my wrist tightened. I smiled weakly.

"I am glad to see you, Davey. I was just surprised, that's all."

The hand loosened again.

"Oh, I see. I was just wondering--are we still on for Winter Ball? I mean--"

He was giving me _The Look_. His sandy hair was falling into his eyes, which were in turn peering at me innocently. It was the look that got him anything he ever wanted. I sighed.

"Yes, we're on for Winter Ball."

He hugged me. The bell rang. I disentangled myself from the embrace, "I'm tardy," I stated blandly.

"Yes, _we_ are, let's go," he said as if it were his idea, looping his arm around my waist.

I accepted it. I always do.

By the time I got to class, the warm up was already on the board. I sat down quickly and got to work. Heero Yuy sat in front of me. I didn't even spare him a glance. After we turned in our assignments, my friends began talking about their dresses for Winter Ball. I didn't join in. I wasn't looking forward to it anymore.

The ringing of the final bell was like a release from torment. I bolted for the door before I could be restrained for after-school gossip. Practice started in an hour, so I decided to haunt the library again. I don't know why.

I hurried in and collapsed into the corner to do my homework, an eye on the clock. Being late to practice meant ten laps around the gym- not a favorite past time of mine. After about twenty minutes with my Chemistry, I decided to let it sit and figure itself out. I rested my chin on my hand and let my mind wander. Chemistry made me think of Heero, which made me think about the library, which made me remember that I was sitting next to the section he had been in.

I couldn't help myself. I wondered what the great Heero Yuy could want from a library that he didn't already know. I tried to tell myself to stop thinking about it, to stop being nosy, but it didn't work.

I walked back to the section Heero had been in and looked around.

It was the poetry section.

What business did stoic Heero Yuy have with books about abstract thinking?

I looked around. The library was empty, spare a few kids playing computer games on some old PCs. The librarian was in the back room.

I went to the library desk and brought up the check-out program. I glanced around one more time before I typed in Heero's name for his library record. Up came a list of many books, all under the genre of poetry. There was one book that he had checked out repeatedly: _The Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke_. I was intrigued, so I quit the program and rushed to the poetry section, searching for the slim novel. Luck was with me.

By the time I had checked it out, I was late to cheerleading practice.

It would be two days before I had the chance to browse through the book, and by then it was Friday night. I don't know why I had checked it out or why I was interested. The pages were aged from years of many readings, and the spine had been taped back together with what I could only call mathematical precision. I was surprised to find a page dog-eared. I flipped to it.

****

The Panther*

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,

has grown so weary that it cannot hold

anything else. It seems to him there are

a thousand bars, and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,

the movement of his powerful soft strides

is like a ritual dance around a center

in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils

lift, quietly. An image enters in,

rushes down through the tense, arrested muscles,

plunges into the heart and is gone.

I was shocked. Did Heero Yuy mark this page, or a previous reader? It touched me deeply, and I couldn't explain why. My mind felt blank. I switched off the light and lay down.

I had nightmares that night.

Saturday morning, I woke to a note on the table. My parents had gone away for the weekend. Two twenty-dollar bills lay on the counter next to the hurried note and I sat down slowly on the stool, putting my head on my arms. With a shake of my head, I got up and went to the fridge for breakfast. I turned on the Saturday morning cartoons and rolled over to get some more sleep.

When I woke up again, it was one, and my stomach was rumbling. Daisy was barking outside, so I got up, went to my room to get dressed, and then walked into the backyard. Daisy was a black lab who hated my guts by tradition. She did, however, really want to go for a walk, so she permitted me to attach the leash with only muted grumbles of complaint. I had tucked one of the twenties in my pocket, and together we walked to the sleepy shopping center four blocks away.

I went to the supermarket and picked up a sandwich. When I walked out, Daisy was growling with envy. I gave her the meat of my sandwich and gobbled up the rest as we walked back.

With my role finished, Daisy reverted to her usual hatred of me and did her best to make my getting the leash off of her as difficult as possible. Eventually freed, she ran into the backyard, searching for any sign of an intruder. I snorted and walked back into the house through the back.

I pulled out the stubborn Chemistry homework again, but my mind had started to wander, so I went to check the messages on the answering machine. Three messages. Hesitantly, I pressed the button.

"Hi, Relena, this is Chloe, we were all wondering if you wanted to come with us to that party at Joe's tonight--it's going to be a blast and I--"

I pressed the forward button.

"Hello, resident, this is Wallace's Window Washing--"

The forward button was pressed again.

"Hey, Relena, this is Davey," the machine repeated dutifully, "I was wondering if maybe we could do something tonight. You know, Kate's mom told Kate that your parents are away this weekend, and I thought we could go see a movie or something. Well, call me when you get back!"

I sat down and closed my eyes. _Say 'no,' say 'no,' say 'no'_.

The phone rang. I picked it up, "Hello?"

"Relena, it's Davey about tonight. You coming?"

__

Say 'no,' say 'no,' "Yes."

"Pick you up at eight then?"

"Sure."

I hung up the phone and deleted all three messages. I then went to the dining room table and worked on my other homework. Daisy was barking at the tree in the yard. The forgotten TV still blared in the den. I didn't care.

By the time eight o'clock had come around, I was seriously considering feigning sickness, but I knew that Davey wouldn't fall for it, or worse: he'd try to stay and take care of me.

The doorbell rang, and I stooped by the hall mirror to check my hair before answering the door. _Why are you doing this?_ I asked my reflection.

My blank green eyes held no answer.

I sucked in a breath and opened the door. Davey was there, smiling and bearing a single red rose, "Man, you look nice."

I smiled and took the rose, even though it seemed a little bruised from handling by inexperienced hands, "Thanks. What movie are we seeing?"

"I don't know. I figured we'd find out when we get there."

We were soon in his car and driving to the theater. He put the radio on to some band I'd never heard of and we talked about parties, football games, and other school stuff.

Davey was the varsity quarterback on the school football team. I was the envy of all the girls at school for being his girlfriend; at least that's what I liked to tell myself.

When we got to the theater, Davey put his arm around me and bought us two tickets to some B- romantic movie. I was slightly resentful of this because he wouldn't let me pay for my own ticket. When we moved in, I eyed the snack bar.

"I'm going to go get some popcorn, okay?" I said, twisting out of his arm.

"No, I'll get it," he said, grinning.

"But I have money--"

He clasped my hand, "I said I'd get it, okay? I want everyone to know you're my girl."

I sighed and nodded. We went to the snack bar together.

Davey complained about being gypped at the snack bar, so by the time we got to the movie, the previews had already rolled and we were ushered into the back row. As soon as we sat down, he had his arm around me, and was tracing his fingers up and down my neck. The attention was unwelcome, but I tolerated it anyway. I turned my eyes up to his, which were shadowed in the darkness of the theater. _He loves me. He touches me and takes care of me because he loves me._

The movie dragged on its heels for ages and completely died about half way through. I thought it was a horrible waste of money, but Davey didn't seem to mind. After an hour of touching my neck, he pulled me forward and began kissing me.

I tolerated it.

He began pulling me closer, but I tried to keep my distance. We struggled slightly, our lips still linked in a kiss, and eventually I broke free, "Not now, okay, Davey?" I whispered.

He looked furious, but he pulled away just the same, crossing his arms and not even touching me.

I looked up at the movie. The lead girl was crying about something, and the lead man was promising to protect her. The girl smiled at him lovingly and told him how strong he was. I snorted and rolled my eyes.

The car ride was silent. I felt a need to explain the behavior that was so obviously unacceptable to him.

"Davey--" I started, but we were already there. He opened his door, slammed it, and then opened my door. I minute I got out, he was crushing his lips against mine, pulling me closer--

I broke it off again, feeling horrible. He looked confused.

"I'm sorry, Davey, I just don't feel well today."

He laced his fingers in mine and sighed, "You know, I'm a very tolerating boyfriend."

"You are, Davey, I just don't want to get you sick."

He ran his hands through my hair longingly, "Next time I won't be so forgiving, you know."

I smiled at him, "I know."

He got into his car and drove off. I headed home, relieved.

I went back into my room and collapsed into my bed. I looked up at the ceiling until I got sick of it and turned to my side. My eyes fell to the open poetry book still at my bedside. _The panther pacing a cagethe only world it ever knew._

Within minutes, I was asleep, my unwashed makeup leaving smudges on the pillowcase.


	2. Part 2

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Title of Fanfic "The Panther"

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Penname Moonkitty Liafle

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Email address lunarswan@yahoo.com

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Which categories your fic is competing in: Best AU/ Best Drama/ Best Series

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Any Warnings: Rated "R" for mature themes, sexual violence; abuse

THE PANTHER

Part II. Testing Bars

Monday morning found me at school doing homework in the library before class started. Sunday had been spent milling about at home doing nothing. When I was done, I went back to the poetry section. To my surprise, Heero was there. He was flipping through a book, but he shut it and put it away the moment I came near.

"Hi," I said stupidly.

He nodded in response, and it seemed as if he was planning to walk past.

"Have you ever read Rainer Maria Rilke? His poems are fantastic." Okay, so I was technically cheating. I just didn't know what to say.

He nodded, his eyes were piercing me. It was really annoying. Since I had already made a complete fool of myself, I figured acting even stranger wouldn't make a difference, "I'm surprised that you don't make any friends, Heero. I mean, you know, kids our age, well, we usually try and talk to lots of people--"

"Are you asking why I chose not to be popular?" he said in a rumbling monotone.

I stopped, surprised. He talked! I shrugged in reply, "Well, it is a little strange. Why won't you talk to anyone?"

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

I was at a loss for words. That was new, "Well."

"I don't talk to people like you, Relena Darlian, because you have nothing worthwhile to say."

I was silent.

"You've never suffered. You don't know anything, so you can't understand a person like me."

With that, he brushed past me. The warning bell rang for class and I followed numbly.

__

And obviously a person like you cannot understand a person like me, Heero Yuy, I thought as I watched his unruly dark head of hair disappearing into the crowds of people.

Chem that day was spent sneaking glares at Heero, and figuring out the homework from Friday, which I still did not understand. Winter Ball was still the main topic of discussion with my friends, so I spent most of the day in the library "studying."

As I sat there, I couldn't help but think about Heero. For some reason, the library always startled up thoughts about him. I don't know if it was the mystery about him or not, but I decided something for certain. It was time I learned more about Heero Yuy.

Instead of hanging around campus for an hour before practice, I followed Heero on his walk home from school. I was discreet, so it surprised me when he turned around and glared at me.

"You know, technically this could be considered stalking." He growled.

I blushed, "Don't flatter yourself."

"Then why are you here?"

I paused to think about that one. Why the heck **_was_** I following him? "I wanted to know what you meant."

"About what?"

"About what you said in the library. About people like me not suffering."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Obviously not, but you could explain yourself a little."

He stepped closer to me, his blue eyes narrowing, "You want it clear? Here's the truth: you have no idea what people like me--"

"You could tell me!" I interrupted.

"Why should I tell you? Why do you want to know? What business is it of yours?"

He had me there. What did I want from this discussion? Why did I want to know? I was being nosy.

"You look," I said slowly, figuring out my reason as I spoke, "like you could use a friend."

"I don't."

"You do." I shot back, "I thought originally that you were shy around people, but it's worse than that. You're absolutely terrified of everyone. Why?"

He turned to face me and for a moment, I truly though he was going to hit me. His eyes were blue fire and his dark hair was wild. He lifted a hand to strike me--

But he couldn't seem to do it. Instead, he dropped his arm to his side and looked away, "If you want to help me, kill me. I want this all to end."

And with that he turned and walked away. It was time to talk to Duo Maxwell.

After I got back to school, I went down to the Shop buildings. Duo was said to be a genius with metal, and I believed them. The only time Duo ever stayed silent was when he had a welding iron in his hands.

I suppose he was slightly surprised to see me, but not very. He dated Hilde Shiebecker, who was a cheerleader on my team, and was not unfamiliar with talking to me. I did not, however, know how to start talking to him about Heero Yuy.

I didn't have to worry.

"Hey, Relena!" he said with his usual energy, putting down the tools in his hands and lifting up his face mask, "Whatchya doing around the shops?"

Duo's exuberance was very comforting. I couldn't help but smile at him, "Actually, I need to talk to you."

I suppose he heard the seriousness in my voice because his face turned somber, "Let's go outside and get some fresh air."

The metal shop building was right in front of the softball fields, so we only had to go out the back to get some privacy. The only other people there were a group of smokers hanging out around the stairs to the parking lot.

"What is it we need to discuss?" he said after a minute of wandering around aimlessly.

I bit my lip and plunged forward, "Heero Yuy."

Duo shook is head, "Woah, for a minute there I thought you said Heero Yuy."

"I did."

He grabbed my arm and made me stop walking, "Stay away from him, Relena."

I pushed his arm away, "What do you mean, Duo?"

Duo's eyes, a dark almost-black blue, seemed to glitter with fear. His long braid of brown hair, his usual trademark, was messy from his working in the shops. I had never seen him look so harried.

"Look, Heero Yuy is trouble. Don't get near him."

I was feeling pretty defiant by now, "What do you know about him?"

Duo sighed, "More than you think, Relena. I've been his next door neighbor since second grade."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"And?"

He looked surprised at that, "And what?"

"And why should I stay away from him?"

He shook his head, "Promise not to tell a soul?"

"Did I ever tell anyone you were dating Hilde until after you announced it to everyone?"

He smiled at that, but turned suddenly serious. This was not the Duo I knew so well. He sat down on the bench beside the softball diamond, his elbows on his knees. I copied him, staring out into the dust and grass as he spoke.

"Heero loved his mother more than anything in the whole world," Duo began mildly, "When we were kids, sometimes the other neighborhood brats would call him a 'Mama's Boy' and he was proud of it. Heero can be pretty dense sometimes, even if he has the highest G.P.A. in our class. When we were in the third grade, Heero's dad left. He went off to Las Vegas to get away from it all for a while and never came back.

"Things were hard for Heero for a while, but I think he was okay. His mom got a job as a waitress, and relatives helped pay for the house. Things were pretty much normal until seventh grade."

"Seventh grade?" I asked.

"That's when Heero's mom started getting sick. The doctor diagnosed it to be pancreatic cancer. She had three months to live. Heero's old aunt moved in to help out and he took off time from school to be with her until the end."

"So she" I trailed off. Heero did not look like the sort of person to have such a classic sob story.

"The aunt became his guardian and practically cracked open the champagne bottles in celebration. As you can guess, Heero doesn't like her much. And that's it. That's his past."

"So? Why should I stay away from Heero--because he's had a bad life?! Why should that have anything to do with anything now?!"

Duo shook his head, "You don't know this because Heero and I went to a different middle school than you, and it never went beyond me. What I'm about to tell you--well, you can't tell anyone."

"We've already determined that, Duo," I said testily.

"This is serious, Relena. This isn't some stupid popularity thing, like finding out dark secrets and spreading them, is it? Because if it is, I swear to God, I won't ever talk to you again."

I was so incredibly angry at him for saying that that I couldn't help myself, "How dare you think that, Duo Maxwell? I could hit you for even saying that! Of course not!"

He looked at me curiously, "I don't know why I'm telling you this. Maybe I just need to get it off my chest too."

He sighed and ran a hand through his bangs, "Relena, in eighth grade, Heero started going out with Yolanda Morris. She doesn't go to high school here, so you wouldn't know her."

I didn't know her, but the idea of Heero going out with _any_ girl was pretty surreal.

"Well, I was throwing my birthday party that year, and I had invited several kids from our school, Yolanda and Heero included. At about nine, Heero went looking for Yolanda because she needed to call home. I was with him when we finally found her in the backyard making out with Steve Rossetti."

"The soccer player for our varsity team?" I asked.

Duo nodded, "The same. He ran faster than a bat out of hell, but Yolanda stayed, smiling and looking at Heero. He moved forward suddenly and slapped her. It wasn't anything hard or damaging or anything like that. You gotta understand how screwed up Heero was; he didn't know how to handle himself around girls, or anyone for that matter. I guess it's because everyone he's ever loved died or left him. Ever since seventh grade, he's had a screw loose. He just can't form human relationships.

"Yolanda called home and left after that, and Heero spent the night at my place. He swore to me then that he could never trust himself around anyone else anymore. He was scared to death of hurting someone again." Duo trailed off and looked at me, "Relena? You look really pale. Is something wrong? I'm sorry, but it had to be said. You have to know that Heero Yuy doesn't _want_ anything to do with anyone. People like himwell, their childhood screws them over and then they're dangerous for life."

I shook my head and swallowed my nausea, "I understand your reasons for telling me, Duo. Thank you."

Duo stared at me, "Relena, in all the time I've known you, you've never mentioned anything about your life, but I can guess that this stuff is hard for you to understand."

I smiled weakly at him, "No, Duo, I understand perfectly. Thank you for telling me."

And with that, I got up and walked away.

I suppose I can't quite explain how I was feeling at that time. Dismayed? Afraid? Hopeful? Maybe I understood. But no, they always tell me people like me can't understand stuff like that. They always say that I could not have ever experienced anything emotionally trying. I was perfect, wasn't I? I had everything, didn't I?

I was thirty minutes late to practice when I entered the locker room. I shoved my backpack into my sports locker and began changing when Hilde came up behind me. We exchanged a careful look and she turned to open her locker.

There was a minute of silence as I pulled on my clothes and she looked for her knee brace.

"Marcy wants you off the team," Hilde said suddenly, unlacing her shoes to pull up the brace.

I felt cold all of the sudden, "What do you mean?"

"You aren't concentrating anymore, Relena. You're late too much, you aren't enthusiastic-"

"Hilde," I interrupted suddenly, "What are you talking about?"

"Davey Waters." She replied instantly, retying her shoes.

"What about him?" I asked. Sudden discussion about Davey often unbalanced me.

"They say he's been talking about you."

"What's he been saying?"

"That you haven't been as interested in doing anything recently--that you talk dirty about us behind our backs--"

"What?"

Hilde slammed her locker shut, "Well? Is it true?"

I was shocked at the idea that Davey would sink so low, "No, of course it's not true! I don't do any of that stuff!" I sighed and pressed my forehead against the cool locker, "Hilde, I need to tell you something about Davey"

"Are you cheating on him?"

"On who?"

"On Davey. With Duo."

I stared at her blankly. What was she talking about?

"Why would I want Duo? He's your boyfriend."

"We were doing laps today and I saw you talking with him on the dug out bench on the softball field all alone."

"You know we're friends and that's all, Hilde. I would never want Duo like that."

Hilde put bit her lip and frowned, "So, what were you talking about that made you miss practice again?"

I blushed. I know I blushed. I felt the heat creeping across my face before I could turn away. What was there to blush about Heero Yuy?

"It was nothing, Hilde, just silly talk."

Hilde studied my face intently, "So silly you'd miss practice? I'm serious, Relena. Marcy is our captain, and everyone knows she has it bad for Davey Waters. She's been waiting for an opportunity like this to make you look horrible in front of the whole school."

I frowned at this statement, "Who cares about that? You'd still be my friend, right? What should it matter what the school thinks? You would still talk to me, I'm sure."

Hilde turned away from me, frowning, "Well, you know how it is, Relena."

I stared at her blankly. "We've been friends since first grade!"

Hilde looked away, "I can't stay. Unlike you, I need to stay on this team. See you later."

It looked like there was no one I could talk to after all.

I followed Hilde to practice, ran my now-customary laps, and stopped to the smug expression of the captain of the cheerleading squad, Marcy Ernst.

She put up a well manicured hand and smiled, "Relena, I think I need to talk to you."

I nodded, pushing the sweaty whisps of blond hair that escaped my ponytail. Quite calmly, I took three deep breaths and stepped aside to speak to her.

"Relena, I don't like the amount of tardies you've been having," she said bluntly. Marcy was a beautiful girl, and had been that year's Homecoming Queen. Whatever she lacked in intelligence she made up for in shining hair and sparkling eyes, "I mean, I don't think you are putting a one hundred percent effort into this team."

I nodded seriously, "Yes, I'm sorry, I haven't been myself lately."

Her small lips quirked into a smile, "Boy troubles, Relena?"

I shook my head, "I think I may just be coming down with a cold."

Her eyebrows twitched, "Oh."

I mustered up a grin, "I promise this won't happen again."

Marcy's expression was cool and superior, "Yes, well, I'd hate to kick you off the team, but I'll have you know that you have now been officially warned."

Her eyes searched mine, looking for some sort of reaction. I tried to give her none, "I understand, Marcy. You can count on me."

__

'You can count on me.'

I wished I could count on someone, anyone.

There was no one.

I suppose I should have really drawn the line of my fascination with Heero right then and there. To me, relationships had always been about popularity. First, you like a guy, then you see if it's socially acceptable to have a crush on him. After that, you go out with him, break up quickly, and move on. It usually helps if there's a scandal involved.

I had been fortunate enough to avoid most of that. When Davey asked me out sophomore year, we stayed a couple. Outwardly, we were very uninteresting. All of my friends told me our relationship was absolutely adorable. How can you talk to anyone about how you actually feel if they envy you? I suppose they told me how wonderful my boyfriend was so often that even I began to believe it. I mean, obviously, Davey loved me. That was the only explanation. He justdidn't know how to express himself.

However, somehow, I could not drift my thoughts away from Heero Yuy. Okay, yes, he was handsome, but that wasn't just it. It wasn't the mystery about him either, even if it had started that way. Somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, a fire was lit. When I looked at him, I felt a spark of understanding flash between us.

Perhaps within him, I saw my salvation.

I'd rather not talk about from what. If I don't talk about it, it feels more like a crazy dream I cooked up, instead of something real and painful. Maybe, if I close my eyes long enough, I'll realize it was all just a nightmare.

So, for the next couple of days, my interest in Heero Yuy was a smothered warmth within me, not romantic exactly, but more of a strange curiosity.

The next day, I received a message on my answering machine from my parents. They had extended their trip for two weeks.

I spent my few hours at home wandering through the dark hallways of the empty house and visiting Daisy, who, as I mentioned before, was never happy to see me. I would sit for hours inside my brother's room, now neat and packed up since he left for college, just staring at the wall. I would drift into my parents' room as well, but not for long. It felt too much like a stranger's place, and I felt like I was intruding.

Behind the doors of my house are so many locks and secrets and unmentioned stories.

I would imagine standing up one day when my parents were home and screaming on the top of my lungs, _"LOOK AT ME!!!"_

But the dream always ends with them moving on unperturbed.

And that's what I'm scared of--that they won't notice even if I ask them to. So, I never said anything for all of those years. I hadn't uttered a single word.

I'm a coward.

Heero and I were both panthers, like from that poem, pacing restlessly in cages, afraid of the nothingness beyond those bars. He was afraid of love, and I was afraid of freedom. In a way, he was an example of what I was, and through observing him, I observed myself.

So, I continued to watch and study him. The next Monday I worked up the nerve to follow him home from school once again. I was hoping that he was a brisk walker because I could not afford another tardy to cheerleading practice.

As it turned out, he was very fast. So fast in fact that I had a hard time keeping up. He stopped again with in a block of his house and spun around. I darted behind a tree and prayed he hadn't noticed me.

Obviously God wasn't listening.

I had moved off of the sidewalk and behind a huge pine tree that stood on a corner of land between two properties. The pine needles crackled at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"I thought I told you not to follow me," he said coolly, appearing from behind the tree. His hair was wild as usual and his eyes were a dark and angry blue.

I moved away from the tree and smiled, "I never really was much good at listening."

"Obviously not," he replied dryly.

"I just wanted to talk to you," I said carefully.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the tree, "So talk."

Okay, I had to admit it. Maybe there were a couple of romantic thoughts going through my head. He was _really_ good-looking when he stood like that.

"I wanted to know why you close off from others. I want to help you."

He shook his head, "You can't help anyone."

"What do you mean?!" I protested. Did I ever mention how annoying he was too? I didn't know if I wanted to kiss him or maim him.

He lifted his lip into a sneer, "Look at you, all fashionable and ridiculous. Do you care about anything? Are you trying to play the humanitarian or quench morbid curiosity? Maybe you think you'll feel better if you try and help others."

I shook my head, "I don't want any of that." I was having a hard time explaining myself, "I just want to be a friend. That's all. No ulterior motives. Think about it logically, what would talking about you in front of the school do? Duo already told me about it. Why haven't I shouted it across the rooftops yet that you have a crappy home life?"

I sighed in resignation. I knew he wasn't buying it, "Look, I'm sorry. I truly am. Tell me to go. I swear I will leave you alone for good this time."

He was silent, and I had run out of words too. We stood staring at each other silently as the pine needles rustled overhead and time seemed to move on without us.

"My dad walked out on us when I was eight. My mom died of cancer. I live with my aunt and she's a bitch. That's it."

I shook my head, "No it isn't. How did you feel about all of that?"

He moved forward suddenly, grabbed my shoulders and pushed me against the tree. This was not an unfamiliar sensation.

"I held a girl like this once and I hit her. I did it before, and I'm not afraid to do it again."

His palm was raised. I watched him with a grin on my face, taunting death, "No, you won't. You know why? Because you don't want to. Because you can't anymore. You need to isolate yourself from others so they can never be close to you and you won't have to feel pain ever again."

Yet another moment of quiet seized a hold of our conversation. His grip on my shoulder tightened and then loosened suddenly. He let go and took a step back.

"You loved your father and he left. You loved your mother and she died. You loved that girl and she betrayed you. You don't want anyone to leave you, so you're running away first. This has nothing to do with fear of hurting someone, this is about _them_ hurting _you_."

His face was impassive as always, but there was something wild and nervous threading through the undercurrents of his words, "Where'd you get that? Out of some fifty-cent psychology book?"

I stared at him rudely, "No. I got it out of understanding what you're going through--" I swallowed nervously,"--because I'm exactly the same."

He didn't have to tell me to leave this time. I ran away on my own accord.


	3. Part 3

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Title of Fanfic "The Panther"

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Penname Moonkitty Liafle

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Email address lunarswan@yahoo.com

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Which categories your fic is competing in: Best AU/ Best Drama/ Best Series

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Any Warnings: Rated "R" for mature themes, sexual violence; abuse

THE PANTHER

Part III. The Turnkey

It was Friday night and my parents were still away, so of course Davey called to ask me out again. I couldn't refuse. He was my boyfriend and I had no reason to avoid him. I was supposed to love him.

So I said 'yes' and he took me out to a club called "Stray Cat." We danced until about one there, and I had a very good time. I've always been good around clubs. I never order drinks, no matter how thirsty I am, and I never lose sight of my friends. Davey was very protective of me, keeping me close to him as we swayed to the hip-grinding music, and as we twisted and pulsed to the repetitive beat of techno. When we left, he was laughing and joking.

However, when we got to my driveway, things took a downward turn. He parked the car, yanked the brake, and pulled out a six pack of beer he'd swiped from his dad's fridge. He began gulping it down, staring at me. He offered me some, but I refused and looked disgusted. Grumbling something under his breath, he turned on the radio and continued to drink. Finally, I told him to stop. There was a moment of tense silence after I said that. HE slowly brought the can down from his lips and turned to look at me.

"Are you telling me what to do?" he asked. I didn't know why I was staying in that wretched car outside of my house, watching him guzzle down alcohol, but I couldn't move. I knew he wanted me to stay.

"No, I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just worried about you," I said softly.

He crunched the can and threw it under the seat. When he looked back up at me, all I saw was hatred.

Where was the Davey that held me close? Where was the Davey that took care of me and made me feel safe and needed?

"That's it. You think you're too good for me."

"What?"

"That's why you wouldn't go out with me last week to Joe's, why you wouldn't let me into your house even though your parents weren't home," his blue eyes flickered dangerously, "You're a little fucking princess who refuses the touch of us commoners."

His hands went to my wrists, holding them so hard I felt them bruise.

"That's not true," I whispered, truly frightened, "Stop hurting me."

A smile spread across his face. He enjoyed the control he had over me.

"If that's true, prove it."

"How?"

"Invite me up."

"Davey."

His grip was excruciating. I thought I could feel my bones crack, "Invite me up!"

I wanted to scream, but instead I found myself whispering, "Fine, fine."

He released me, got out of his car, and then opened my door. When I hesitated getting out he grabbed my elbow and yanked me out. We walked towards the house quite normally, but his hand crushed mine and his hot breath blew into my hair. I fumbled with the keys, but eventually got the door open. He yanked me up into my room and threw me onto the bed.

Within seconds, my clothes were torn off and he was grinding his hips against mine painfully, his hands on my throat, squeezing harder and harder until he climaxed. All I felt was pain. Was this all "love" was? Pain? I'd read enough books to know that some women enjoy it. I couldn't understand that.

As soon as it was done, he rolled off of me, satisfied. I slipped out from under him and ran to the bathroom to shower. After about forty minutes, I crept hesitantly back to my room. He was already gone.

I sighed and sank done to me knees, cupping my face in my hands. I was not afraid of pregnancy--I had been on birth control pills since I was fifteen--I was afraid of Davey.

I looked at my room, at my torn clothes spread across the floor and my mussed bed.

This was my cage. These were the bars I was afraid to escape from.

I'm not person who enjoys talking a lot, especially about myself. Duo is, of course, the exact opposite. He loves to talk, and most of it is about himself, and, lately, Hilde.

Duo and I work out on my dad's old set of weights in my garage three times a week and he spends most of that time talking.

Today's topic today was surprisingly not Duo or Hilde, but Relena Darlian.

I don't know why I put up with him sometimes.

"So, you ever talked to her?" Duo had begun, sliding under the bench-pressing machine. I absently stood behind him to help him lift.

"To who?" I asked, putting my hands on the bars.

"Relena Darlian." Duo said as if she was the only person on Earth it could be.

I loosened my grip as Duo brought the bar back down.

Relena Darlian is a complicated subject for me. I first saw her in freshman year math. She sat across the room from me, but I always noticed her. I guess it was that smile, or maybe that golden hair, but for some reason it was hard not to look at her. She wasn't very popular at first that year, but her smile seemed to win everyone over. I became even more resolute than anything to ignore her. I knew that if she talked to me, it would be my downfall. I knew that she had the potential to break down all of the careful walls I had built around myself.

So, I learned to hate her. I burned away anything I felt about her because I knew her type--popular, stupid, and self-centered.

And then she talked to me.

"What about her?" I said evenly, making sure that there wasn't a hint of emotion in my voice.

"She talked to me the other day. She was asking me about you, Heero."

I was not surprised. She seemed to have an express interest in me these days.

**__**

"I'm exactly the same."

It couldn't possibly be true.

"What did you tell her?" I asked, helping him pull up the bar again.

"A little bit about your past. She really is a good person, Heero. I know she won't tell a soul."

So Duo had told her about Yolanda. I didn't understand how she could still not hate me.

"How do you know that, Duo?" I asked, nudging his shoulder so he would get up and give me a turn under the bar.

"I've known her since Hilde started going out with me, you know. She's never been rude to anyone, never talked behind anyone's back, never said anything to hurt anyone--"

That was a lie. Every time she spoke to me it was like she was tearing open old wounds.

"I don't want you to talk to her about me anymore," I growled as I pushed up the bar.

"Why not?" Duo said cheerfully above my head, "It's the most classic story in the world: classically perfect hot chick dumps her classically perfect quarterback boyfriend for the school's most classically antisocial guy."

I pushed up the bar with even more strength, "Will you stop that? I have no interest in anyone that way."

__

Especially not her, I told myself. I could already see her green-blue eyes flickering in front of me, smell the sweet shampoo scent of her flaxen hair.

"You know, I really don't know much about her, come to think of it." Duo was saying almost to himself.

I grunted something in reply and kept pushing up the weights.

"Hilde told me that she didn't talk for all of eighth grade year. I don't know how I could go five minutes without talking."

"You sleep," I pointed out, trying to shove away the discomfort I felt thinking about Relena, "You can't talk then."

"I bet you I talk in my sleep," Duo replied, putting down the bar. We got up and began pulling weights.

"Relena really is an interesting person, you know--" Duo began again.

I leaned forward and switched on the radio, the clamor of heavy metal swiftly killing all conversation.

Relena Darlian was not important at all. I could not be interested in her.

Winter Ball. It is amazing how two words can so effectively kill all emotion in your heart. I went to my closet and pulled out my dress, carefully laying it out on the bed. My room was back to its usual order with nothing out of place. If the room was clean, I could forget he was ever there.

My parents returned the following afternoon and busily set to catching up with their work. To me, it was as if they had never come back. I recovered quickly from Davey's slip in character because it hadn't been the first time such a thing had happened.

By then, it had become a routine--something one puts up with on occasion because it can't be helped.

The week after that was spent working and avoiding looking at Heero. If Davey's intent had been to remind me of what I was, he couldn't have conceived a better way to do so.

What right had I to compare myself to Heero Yuy? What right did I have to even think about him? Heero Yuy was a daydream and a fantasy. Davey made me remember exactly who I was: a leech who was lucky just to be considered popular.

Without Davey, I was nothing. I was only on the cheerleading team because the captain liked my boyfriend wanted him to think she was nice. I was only well known around school because I went to every dance with my hand in the crook of his arm.

All of my friends would leave me in an instant if I were excommunicated from the popular circles.

Thinking about Heero Yuy would make me lose everything I had.

I didn't deserve someone like him.

I deserved someone like Davey.

I put down the dress and went to my brother's room. Boxes were stacked on a bare mattress, every surface was polished smooth and clean. I stared at the room blankly, feeling an ocean of rage build inside of me, a fierce hatred tear at my body and force its way out.

Without a second thought I pulled a box off of the bed and upturned it onto the floor. Glass broke, papers flew up into the air, and trophies crashed into the gray carpet. I ground up the glass with my shoe, stomped on the plastic statues, and tore up the A+ reports and saved projects until I was surrounded by a white paper snow.

I stared at my mess for a short while before sighing and getting up to search for the vacuum.

When I was a little girl, my father bought me a white satin dress to wear for a party of some sort. I remember how wonderful it felt to slip it on. After the party, I would often put it on at home and dance in dizzy circles across the living room floor. My older brother was the one who took care of me at home because my parents were so busy with their jobs, so I was alone most of the time to do what I pleased.

One day I collapsed on the carpet, so dizzy I couldn't even move. The ceiling spun above me, and I felt like I was flying. I didn't have a care in the world.

It's amazing how quickly things can change.

My dress for Winter Ball was also white satin. I don't know if it was coincidence or an unconscious longing to return to those times, but I had chosen it all the same. After I had put on my dress and my makeup, I coiled my hair up onto the top of my head and pinned it up. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror, to the bruised neck and wrists that were the only marks of the chains that bound me to Davey. As always, I pulled out my cover-up cream and smeared it on without another thought.

Davey showed up at my door promptly at eight. I told my mother I was going, and she said I was pretty and told me to have a nice time. I plastered on a cheerleader smile and nodded.

My boyfriend grinned as well and led me out like a gentleman.

If only that were true.

We were dancing so close, I began to feel uncomfortable. I knew that Davey had had a bit to drink before the dance, but I had no idea how far gone he was until we had gotten out onto the dance floor. I used to do ballet when I was a little girl, and everyone said I was good--better than good. I stopped dancing, but that confidence on the dance floor has never left me.

Whenever I danced, I felt free. For a couple of minutes in the middle of that night, I completely forgot the bars around me. It was like they were completely invisible even though I was dancing right beside the boy who held the keys to my prison.

However, sometimes I felt like I was the one holding the keys, and I was just too afraid to let myself out. When I danced, I let myself go, and no one could touch me.

Then the beat changes or a new song comes on, and the feeling is completely destroyed.

But this time, Davey was pulling me hard against him, and every time I struggled to break free, he held me tighter. A flash of blue light swept over us, and when I looked up, I saw my brother looking down at me instead of my boyfriend.

I think I screamed because suddenly Davey was on the floor and I was halfway outside of the gym. I had kicked off my shoes sometime during the dance, so now the gravelly black top surrounding the gym bit my bare feet as I fled.

I scooped the front of my long dress into my arms and continued my mad dash with no plan of action in my mind. I was just running, away from what I could not say, but a skittering feeling had seized control over my body and I could not think.

My feet paused momentarily at the stairs to the parking lot as my eyes scanned the rows of cars out of habit. But then I remembered that I didn't even have a car. Davey had driven me. I darted across the black pavement and then I was on the sidewalk, still sprinting. My muscles burned and my face was chapped with cold, but I kept running.

I didn't know where I was until I found myself in the drive way to Heero's house.

I don't think it had anything to do with fate. He was simply the only person I knew of who lived near enough to walk to school, and my instincts guided me there. My chest was heaving with exertion, my hair was everywhere, and tears had made my makeup run.

What was I doing there?

Cursing myself for my stupidity, I turned to leave. The moon cast silver shadows onto the lonely silent street lost in the maze called suburbia. The tranquility of the scene moved me beyond words. How could _I_, who was such a harried and noisy person, ever trespass onto such quiet beauty?

But then, a question beat the stillness into a thousand shards of noise.

"What are you doing here?"

When I turned, I was staring into the face of Heero Yuy.

Heero took a step closer to me, eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What do you want, Relena?"

I stared at him for a brief, confused moment, and then turned away, "I'm sorry, Heero. I can't believe this happened again. I'm so embarrassedthis wasan accident."

I was walking away when a hand grabbed mine, and I gasped in surprised pain. Slowly, ever so slowly, I turned around, looking at Heero. He was much closer to me now, staring at me with those blue eyes of his, his grip gentle on my wrist. With careful precision, he lifted up my hands and rubbed off the makeup I used to cover up my bruised skin. His eyebrows came together in a frown and he touched my neck too, examining my skin through the smudged cover-up.

I couldn't move; I was petrified with fear. He continued to run sensitive fingers up and down my throat, on my wrists, his eyes glittering coldly in the silver light. There were no secrets that could be hidden from him, no fears that could be smashed down and beaten into the corners of my mind.

After an eternity of inquisitive touches, he dropped his hands to his sides.

"What happened to you?" he asked.


	4. Part 4

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Title of Fanfic "The Panther"

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Penname Moonkitty Liafle

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Email address lunarswan@yahoo.com

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Which categories your fic is competing in: Best AU/ Best Drama/ Best Series

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Any Warnings: Rated "R" for mature themes, sexual violence; abuse

THE PANTHER

Part IV. A Thread Between Two Worlds

"What happened to you?" he asked.

I cleared my throat and stepped away from Heero, crossing my arms in front of my body and shrugging, "None of your business." I lowered my head, "I'm sorry about this, I didn't know where else to go. I got nervous and silly and panicked. You know how us popular girls are."

He shook his head. "No. No, I don't." Suddenly, he reached out his hand again and grasped my fingers in his own, "I can take you home if you'd like."

I smiled slightly and nodded slowly. "I'd love that."

And so, without another word, he led me to his old, beat up car and pulled out of the driveway. After a minute or two of silence, I cleared my throat, "Heero? How did you notice me outside?"

He glanced over at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road, "I was about to go out to get gas."

We both sighed. The radio wasn't on, and since he didn't make a motion to touch the dial, I didn't either. The silence was endless, but it was a good kind of stillness, like the kind I observed in the neighborhood washed by moonlight, or the bubbles of quiet created between friends who have known each other for years.

Once in a while, I would give him a direction to get to my house, but even that could not break the hushed atmosphere. When he pulled up, he waited until I waved to him before leaving. I didn't even say thank you.

I entered my room through my window, which was all right because my parents expected me to crash at a friend's house on days of dances. The hours moved slowly in the darkness of my room as I waited for the house to settle into complete silence before I crept out to take a shower.

My dreams were filled with questioning blue eyes that would not leave me alone.

I didn't know what to think.

I mean, seeing Relena Darlian bruised and beaten so horribly--she obviously had gotten herself into a great deal of trouble. I should have done as she asked and let it slide, but something kept me thinking about it. Even though I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I could see with perfect clarity the rings of bruises that had made handcuffs on her wrists, and the yellowing marks around her delicate throat. Then those thoughts of her body led to other thoughts that I attributed to predictable male hormones.

I closed my eyes again, and tried to do what I always did when distressed--envision my mother.

My mother had dark complexion that had stemmed from her Asian ancestry, but generations of Caucasian blood mixing into the line had given her stirring blue eyes. I never thought she was very beautiful, but when she laughed, she sounded just like an angel.

I rolled over to look at my wall. It was bare, like the rest of my room. My aunt, bustling away in the kitchen to make a midnight snack, sounded like she was in another galaxy. I heard the stairs creaking slowly under my aunt's light weight, and then the delicate patter of her feet walking on the floor.

Aunt Poppy was my mother's older sister, but as my mother said when I was a kid, Poppy was always one flower short of a bouquet. My aunt and my father were going out steadily until Poppy brought him home for the weekend. When he met my mom, he dumped Aunt Poppy for her. There was a rift of hatred and jealousy between them until the day my mother died. I think the fact that her sister's son had to depend on her to survive made my aunt perversely happy.

My door creaked open and I shut my eyes. I knew what she would look like anyway, fancy and wrinkly, with her hair dyed mousy brown and her gaunt frame wrapped in some silky robe.

"I saw a girl outside of our house tonight," she said archly, seeing through my feinted sleep.

"So?" I replied.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"No."

"Is she your friend?"

"No."

"Who the heck was she?" Aunt Poppy asked.

I sighed and pulled the blankets up over my shoulder, remembering Relena's delicate face and her bruised skin, "I don't know."

I don't think I'd ever dreaded the morning as much as I did that night. I was expecting many phone calls demanding an explanation, asking if I was all right--

Perhaps the greatest shock of all was when Sunday came and I did not receive a single call. This, of course, sent my nerves into high gear. What had Davey said to them?

By two, I resorted to desperate measures and called Hilde.

I brought the portable in my room and shut the door carefully. My father had gone back to work at the hospital and my mother had gone outside to see how her flowers had survived the cold. My mother's cheeks were burned from two weeks of skiing, but other than that, she looked normal, as did my dad. Their occasional vacation retreats were quite common in my life, and I had adapted.

Hilde picked up the phone after two rings, but almost hung up again the moment I said hello.

"What do you want, Relena?" she hissed. I could imagine her crossing her arms and pouting as we spoke.

"What's wrong with you? I just wanted to apologize for last night--"

"Why are you apologizing to me, Relena? You should apologize to Davey for what you did! It's a wonder he still goes out with you after having to put up with all your temper tantrums. I didn't think you'd be so hard on the guy."

"What did he tell you?"

"That you were jealous about the Marcy incident, of course, and that you slapped him and ran out."

"What 'Marcy incident?'"

"Don't pull that shit on me, Relena. Everyone's been talking about it since Friday. Marcy pulled Davey by the arm during History and kissed him right on the lips. It wasn't like he was participating or anything. How could you throw a fit over someone as ditzy and stupid as Marcy?"

"Hilde, please listen to me," I said slowly, "I didn't even know about that."

There was a pause on the end of the other line, "What are you saying, Relena? That Davey lied?"

I massaged my temples slowly, "Hilde, I think I was just too tired. I thought I saw something so I ran away. There was nothing more to it."

"Oh," Hilde said in an embarrassed tone, "I thought--"

"Davey was confused too. It was no one's fault."

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that, Relena."

"It's okay."

"Relena, everyone else thinks--"

"I don't care what they think, Hilde."

Hilde's voice was sad and slow, "Relena, you'll tell me what's going on someday, won't you?"

I drew a breath. I was ready to reply, I was going to tell her everything--but then I realized something depressing. Hilde wouldn't understand. No one could.

I said good-bye and hung up.

I was all alone, just like four years ago.

I went to my backpack to start my homework, but stopped when I heard my bedroom door open. My mother was standing in the doorway, smiling. She smelled of the Earth, and was tracking dirt into the house.

"Relena? When you get a chance, I want you to clear out those old boxes in Milliardo's room," she said, smiling cheerfully, "He's coming home for the weekend."

My voice left my throat and I nodded fearfully.

My brother was coming home in less than a week.

I didn't even notice my mother's departure.

By Monday, everything seemed to be patched up. Hilde had called up a lot of other people and told them my side of the story. When I passed her in the hall going to English class, she smiled and winked at me, and I realized that she had done the only thing she knew how to do to help me.

For one moment, my day was brightened, but it soon faded back into the gray dreariness that hinted the coming of a storm. Later that day, the rain would come, falling down in torrents and soaking everyone to the bone.

English class was dull, and I spent the time leaning my cheek on my hand and doodling on binder paper. The most eventful occurrence was when Heero stood up to sharpen his pencil.

I'm not saying that pencil sharpening was interesting in the least, but when he was moving to his seat, he gave me the most piercing blue glare I have ever felt. I blushed and looked away angrily.

What did he know? How much did he assume? I never thought that my curiosity would turn into such a potential threat to my existence. If he told anyone.

When the bell rang, I almost flew out of the class, but it seemed as if my day was cursed. Davey was leaning on the wall near my locker, his hazel eyes narrowed and his face arranged into a smug grin.

"So, Relena, why did you leave so suddenly at the dance?" I walked towards him, and he wrapped his arms around me, turning me so my back was to the wall. He moved his lips close to mine, "I had plans for that night you know."

I nodded carefully and his hands went down to my waist. It looked as if he were holding me, but he was just squeezing his hands harder and harder. I think I might have gasped because he pecked a kiss on my lips and let go suddenly.

"What's up with you, babe? Don't you like me?"

I sighed, "Yes, Davey, but I have to get to class."

He leaned in for one last kiss, and before he moved away he whispered, "Relena, you are mine. Don't you ever forget it."

It is funny how just a couple of words can seal your fate. I could do nothing except pull away to work on my combination, and watch him walk away through the corner of my eye.

If I had been looking in the other direction, I would have noticed a pair of eyes observing the scene as well.

The bell rang. I was late for class.

I was not surprised when Duo came in late for advanced metal shop, or when Mr. Burns threatened to write him up. For as far back as I could remember, Duo had always managed to miss the warning bell to get to class, and every teacher was on his case about it.

I didn't think he'd been late for a real reason this time, but I learned otherwise when he drew me aside to sort scraps for salvageable metal.

"I saw Relena today," he said in a low voice, upending the scrap bucket and picking through it.

"So?" I replied in an equally muted voice. I had seen Relena the period before--it didn't seem very astounding to me.

"You don't get me, Heero, I saw her _with Davey._"

"They've been going out for a year. I would be surprised if you didn't see them together," I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

"Do I detect a hint of envy?" Duo said gleefully.

I didn't even respond to that one.

Duo began dividing the heap into two piles with quick and experienced hands, "I never really got to see them that close before, you know how it is. Heero, Davey was--"

"What?" I said sharply before I realized that I was even speaking.

Duo lowered his gaze to the scraps, "It looked like he was hurting her."

I felt the blood leave my face. The pieces clicked in place all at the same time. Why she ran from the dance, why she was bruised, why she said she had a problem.

"What was he doing to her?"

Duo shrugged, "Squeezing her waist real hard like he was hurting her. Do you think that he wouldyou know."

"Beat her up?" I finished for him tactlessly, "Yeah, I think so. It's not like it doesn't happen."

It did happen. I knew because I had done it myself. I could feel the sting of Yolanda's skin under my hand, the vicious red haze that ruled my mind when I looked down at her.

Duo seemed to be remembering this too because he looked away, "But what did Relena do to Davey? Embarrass him? Hurt his pride?"

"Maybe he had the same reason I did." I said quietly, "Maybe he thought she was cheating on him."

Duo laughed at that, "With who?"

"With me."

Duo shook his head and laughed again, "Woah there, cowboy. For a minute there I thought you said that she was cheating with you!"

"Not that she is cheating with me, but that Davey might think she is." Duo had a very skeptical expression plastered across his face that urged me on, "The night of the danceafter Relena ran offshe came to my place."

Duo's dark eyes widened, "Seriously? What happened?"

Heero shrugged, "I drove her home."

Duo let out a small squeal of frustration, "Heero, you are the most boring teenager on the planet! You just drove her home? Am I no influence on you at all?"

I lifted an eyebrow, "I certainly hope not."

He sighed and began putting the good metal into a box, "So, what was so special about that?"

"She hadmakeup on her wrists and neck."

"Makeup?"

"I rubbed it offand her hands and throat were covered with bruises."

Duo looked very nervous. He shrugged and continued sorting while I played with a piece of metal in my hands, "Well, she's a cheerleader. They do a lot of complicated routines."

I shook my head, "No, it doesn't fit."

Duo looked away, "I know."

"Why" I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts, "Why does she cover it up? Why doesn't she dump him if he hurts her?"

With an angry movement of my hand, I swept away the bad metal scraps out of my way. Duo watched me carefully as he said, "We all have our secrets, Heero, and we all have our fears."

That felt wrong to me. I didn't want to be afraid anymore.

And I didn't want Relena to be afraid either.

Marcy had me go overtime doing a hard routine until my back and calves were screaming for mercy. The setting sun was slanting through the high windows in the locker room and I felt a strange sense of peace. The other girls had left long before, and I relished the solitude.

Within minutes, I was dressed and ready to go. Orange lights flickered on in the gym, and I heard the telltale rumble of cleats on concrete that signaled the soccer team lumbering to the locker room after practice. Without another word, I yanked up my book bag and left.

By the time I had gotten to my car, dusk had set in, and rain began to pour. The weather was fickle that week, strange and constantly changing from day to day. I hadn't seen a winter like that since I was in the seventh grade. It took three tries for my car to start up, so when I was out on the road I was quite predictably relieved. When I finally did get home, I was shocked to find two familiar cars by my house. My brother's white Celica was in the driveway, and Heero's beat up old car was rumbling in the street. The rain was coming down in sheets and sliding across the asphalt because of the strong wind.

I parked quickly and went to Heero's car first. The windows were fogged up and the rain was drenching, so I pounded on the passenger's window and waited for it to roll down. Instead, the shadowy figure of the driver leaned over and opened the door.

I found myself looking into Heero's cold eyes.

"You want to go get something to warm to drink?" he asked nicely, but his tone was not polite.

I only spared myself a moment to glance back at my house before getting into the car--I didn't want to go home yet, not with my brother there. The moment I buckled my seat belt, he pulled away from the curb and to the local coffee shop.

Five minutes and one short line later, we sat down at an isolated table by the window with our drinks.

There was nothing more unsettling than sitting down at a table with Heero Yuy. His expression seemed to scare people away, while it only seemed to compel me. Admitting that was a confusing revelation I did not want to think about just yet.

The tension between us seemed to stretch like a rubber band, farther and farther until finally it snapped.

"I need to talk to you," Heero said suddenly. He hadn't touched his drink and neither had I, so I took that moment to pick mine up for a careful sip.

"What about?" I asked, but I knew what his answer would be.

"Davey."

My eyes met his in a nervous glance, "What about him?"

"Does hedoes he hurt you?"

Alarm bells went off in my mind. A little boy was asking his mother for a sip of her coffee a few tables over, but I was completely focused on Heero, "I don't believe that is any of your business, Heero."

The eyes grew even icier with anger, "I'm making it my business, just like you did."

"I--"

"Tell me, Relena. I need to know."

"Why?" the words just popped out of my mouth. What was I hoping for? What did I have the right to hope for? I had brought up Heero's past, and now he had the nerve to--

I never should have talked to him. What did I see in him? Was I trying to escape?

Did I want to?

I finally broke eye contact with him and stared at the stained tabletop, "He doesn't mean to."

"He doesn't mean to?" he repeated in a mocking tone.

"II can't expect you to understand. I can't explain--"

He reached out and touched my hand. I had never felt his hand before, and I found it warm and dry and comforting.

"You can explain it."

For one moment, I looked back up at him, but I turned my attention back down, "When heyou knowit makes me feel better. If he hurts me, I know exactly what I am. I'm nothing at all. Have you ever tried it? It's nice. When they hit you, it's a punishment for all of the bad things you've done. You don't feel selfish or egotistical or arrogant. You feel humble and perfectlike the martyr in a fairytale. Yes, you're worthless, yes, you're selfish, but someone is teaching you a lesson. Someone is looking out for you. And Idon't feel afraid.

"When I'm with him, I'm the perfect stereotype of a teenager. I won't stand out. I won't be weird or special--just plain normal. That's who I have to be. That's who I'm supposed to be."

I was rubbing away tears with my free hand and his grip tightened. I looked over to his hand over mine and flushed. What did everyone else in the shop think of us?

"Relena, you're not supposed to be anyone, just yourself."

I was sick of it. I was sick of him trying to console me, and I was sick of thinking that he was so kind. Why did I have to tell Heero Yuy all of the things I had never told anyone?

My hand disappeared from his grasp and folded with its fellow in my lap. When I looked back into his eyes, I had covered up all of the vulnerability and fear, "Why should I listen to advice from someone who can't even figure his own life out?"

A fierce hatred burned between us until it ran out of fuel and died, "You tell me," he said in a phlegmatic voice.

At first I thought he was being mean or giving me a warning, but then I realized that Heero Yuy was doing his best to extend his hand in friendship.

"Perhaps there really isn't anyone else we can talk to," I said slowly, "Maybe we should try tohelp each other. You know my secret and I know yours, so I suppose we're even, right?"

He nodded warily, "What's your point?"

"There's something that connects us, Heero."

"You haven't told me everything, have you?" he asked suddenly.

I stood up and picked up my drink, gently brushing away what remained of my tears, "No, I haven't," I replied truthfully, "Could you please take me home now? I believe our discussion has ended."

He stood up as well, and I couldn't help but blush when he opened the door for me when we went out.

There was an invisible thread that bound us together, all right. It wouldn't take me long to realize that it was called 'love.'


	5. Part 5

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Title of Fanfic "The Panther"

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Penname Moonkitty Liafle

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Email address lunarswan@yahoo.com

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Which categories your fic is competing in: Best AU/ Best Drama/ Best Series

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Any Warnings: Rated "R" for mature themes, sexual violence; abuse

THE PANTHER

Part V. "The tears leave a bitter taste in my throat."

When Heero finally dropped me off at home, his eyes focused completely on me. I hated it when he looked at me that waylike I was some sort of pathetic wounded animal.

"Relena, are you--"

"Will you please shut up?" I asked calmly, "I think we've said enough on the subject."

He yanked on the brake and glared at me. The rain drummed impatiently on the roof of the car, and the lights in the front room of my house were glowing like with a heat that did not provoke any warm emotions inside my heart. Home. I had to go home.

"You'll end up destroying yourself if you let this go on."

I looked away, my hand flying to the handle of the door.

"Don't you see, Relena? You're the one keeping yourself with him. You let him. Why won't you tell me the truth?"

"Heero--"

"Just tell me why!"

"It's none of your business!"

He grabbed my hands forcefully, and I was reminded all too sharply of that day with Davey. I think he saw my fear because his grip suddenly loosened completely. The passion that had been glowing in his eyes faded quietly into nothingness.

I finally looked at him, biting my lip, "You ask for answers that I can't give."

I opened the door and ran out into the rain towards home. He watched me disappear into the house before pulling up the brake and zooming away, unknowingly leaving me with the person I feared even more than Davey.

I guess I didn't really understand anything before Relena. It was all a haze of grades and school and forgetting, but Relena wouldn't let me do any of that. Quite innocently, she had dragged me into the hell that she was facing.

Had she done it intentionally? What did she want? How had she managed to seize a hold over me so quickly? I felt a longing --no, a lust-- for answers. I wanted to know everything about her.

I just didn't know why.

"Why" seemed to be the question of the day. Why did Relena stay with Davey? Why did she have to be perfect? Why did I want to know everything about her?

__

Why did I want her so badly?

I couldn't explain the depth of my emotions at that time. What had once been barren was suddenly lush with feelings--and Relena had planted the seed. It didn't take long until my car had found its way back to my house and I was inside, yanking off my wet jacket and kicking off my shoes.

My aunt stirred somewhere upstairs, but she didn't come down to see me, and I didn't go up to see her. We lived in the same house, but we were total strangers, moving about our daily lives without ever talking. One thing I will always regret is never getting to know Aunt Poppy better. My opinions and impressions of her have no depth or meaning because I truly did not know the person that lived beneath the brown hair die and powdery makeup that had long ago stopped concealing folded skin and graying hair.

I only realized that years later, and by then my chance was gone.

"Milliardo, it's so nice to have you back home again, dear." My mother was saying cheerfully. "We're all so glad you could come home this week. Aren't we, Relena?"

I looked up at my brother, the smiling high school and college champion of basketball and proud bearer of a genius level IQ.

"Ecstatic." I said, picking at my food.

My father was grinning as he picked up a bowl from the table and heaped mashed potatoes on his plate, "It's great to have the whole family together again, isn't it?"

I remained silent. Why was the family only together when my brother was home?

"Say, Relena, I saw this ad in the magazine last week when I was doing last minute edits," my mother said, leaning over and picking up the magazine that she was chief editor of. We kept every issue of it in stacks all around the house lying in forgotten corners and collecting dust, "You know how you quit dancing four years ago? Well, I thought that maybe you could start up again. The new studio opening up in town seems very good."

I looked up at Milliardo suddenly. He looked back at me, his eyes glinting darkly.

He smiled.

"What do you think, sis? Feel up to the challenge?"

I waited for one agonizing minute, just staring at my brother.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not really interested."

My mother shrugged and briskly folded the magazine up and tossed it away, "Oh well, it was worth a shot. The instructors told us you were very good, Relena. You remember that? They said we should look into dance schools for you but then" she trailed off, "Well, you know what happened."

I knew all too well.

Milliardo smiled and reached for the milk, "Well, you know how it is, Mom. Some things just aren't meant to be."

"I guess," she said, looking over at him happily. She picked up her fork and dug into her food.

I didn't eat much at all.

I felt sick.

Garages reminds me of my father. He used to spend every other evening in ours, building muscles, to "keep his form." My mother often sent me out to spend "quality time" with him when I was getting underfoot. So I would sit on the hood of our old car and watch him for hours on end.

Sometimes the radio would be on and blaring out the Sunday afternoon baseball games, and sometimes he would grunt out tips in choppy sentences as he worked out. I spent most of my time watching specks of dust dance through the air, and daydreaming.

One day I was at my usual seat while my dad was lifting when our favorite baseball player struck out on a fly that would have won the game. He sat up suddenly, booing and hissing, and one of the piercing rays of light touched the crown of his head, and seemed to set his blond hair on fire.

It was at that moment that I felt cool fingers of premonition brush against my skin, and I realized it would be the last time my father and I did weights together.

It was a hot summer day. The air tasted like heat and smelled like the dead grass that was baked into spun gold by the burning sun. I was sitting outside, digging holes in the clumps of weeds we called a lawn. I didn't hear any raised voices, which was normal in a fight between my parents, just a door slamming. I ran out front, thinking that maybe someone had come to visit.

I was so naïve.

My father's jalopy was being started in the garage, so I hurried to the driver's side window. I could see the blond stubble on his jaw and the stink of burning gasoline as he revved the engine.

There was a moment when we made eye contact just before he pulled away; one second when I saw him and he saw me. That moment stretched on until the sun burnt out and the Earth became a ball of ice and until he looked away.

"Watch out for yourself, kid." He said in his usual growl.

I watched him arc out across the pavement and then set off down a road that headed straight out of my life and into the dream of a constantly ebbing and flowing tide of money, women, and cheap cigarettes.

My last thought was this: I have my father's eyes.

The very thought scared me witless.

"Relena, I believe I asked you for your opinion on Boyle's Law."

Mr. Guspesto's voice startled me out of my reminiscing to look over at Relena. Our Chemistry teacher had caught her not paying attention--a fatal error that I too was guilty of. I slid my eyes back to my own paper.

Her business was not mine.

Her voice, usually calm and clear, was threaded with nervousness, "I'm sorry, Mr. GuspuestoI--"

"You weren't paying attention," the black-bearded Chemistry teacher pointed out, "I suggest you tell me why."

"I'm sorry, sir, I was tired from practice yesterday--"

Mr. Guspuesto shook his head and stood up, "If you can't handle extracurricular activities and schoolwork, you should make sure to sort out your priorities."

The teacher moved away and pointed to the other side of the room, "Catherine, why don't you tell the class what you think Boyle's Law is"

Once again, I drowned out the class and looked back over at Relena. She was blushing and watching the teacher, trying to make up for her slip up. She finally glanced back at me nervously, but quickly turned back to the teacher.

I had never felt so divided before. For the first time in my life, I just wanted to escape school. I wanted to lie down and simply fall asleep for hour upon hours upon hours. Relena Darlian had completely and utterly taken over my thoughts. Once I dreamt solely about her hair cascading over my palms and breathing in its smell. But what was even stranger was the fact that I didn't know what her hair smelled like _or_ felt like.

My hormones had once again taken a hold of me, I supposed.

However, I didn't know if it was just teenage male chemistry gone haywire. Yes, I felt that dizzy and mind-blowingly foolish feeling when I saw Relena, but there was something else to it. I felt a sense of eternity with her--as if I could lie down beside her every night for the rest of my life and still feel content--a strange sensation for any male below the age of thirty-five, I'll tell you, and yet I found myself experiencing it at only seventeen.

And when her eyes met mine, I wondered if she felt it too.

I could not know that the next few moments would change both of our lives forever. I could not know that precisely five minutes after I had that epiphany, a knock would come on the door, and a man named Milliardo would ask to see his sister.

It all happened so fast, that it takes me quite a bit of time to recount it slowly. One minute I was in Chemistry, the next I was outside with my brother, shivering in the nippy spring air as we went out of the hall and onto one of the wide cement walkways between buildings.

My brother always reminded me of an alien. His long blond hair was so light and fine, it drifted like solidified sunlight in the breeze, almost as unnatural as his icy eyes. When he looked at me directly, as he was at that moment, I always felt the sensation of cold hands trailing down my back. He had a handsome, otherworldly figure, trim and slender, but unmistakably strong.

"You didn't uphold your part of the bargain," he said casually, a smile playing across his lips, "Did you forget?"

I shook my head vehemently, "No, never!"

His hand went to his jacket pocket, and withdrew a crumbled envelope. I moved forward to snatch the letter from his grasp, but he held me back with one hand. The moment he touched me, I felt the energy drain from my body and spill onto the cold concrete.

He began to recite the contents of the letter in a mocking tone of voice, his eyes darting up constantly to center on my face. "Miss Relena Darlian, we are pleased to accept your application to join our class at the university. As you may recall, you were sent a letter of interest from us, and though you cut off your dancing career due to your ankle injury four years ago, we believe that you could make up for lost time, with our courses. Thank you for your interest in our school, Signed, Marina Gomez."

I bit my lip.

"We made a deal, Relena."

"I"

"You lied."

His fingers curled around my shoulder, and I saw myself cowering in the reflection of his eyes.

The years fell away like leaves from a tree as I remembered the last time I looked into his eyes that way before--late one June evening when I was thirteen years old.

The air was filled with the muted taps of ballet shoes on a wooden floor, the smell of musty leather, and the scratchy music of a record player droning out classical music. The local ballet studio was small, but we managed to drill out a production every year. It was that summer when I got picked to dance a solo in "Cinderella" and I was simply ecstatic because I had only just moved up to toe shoes the year before.

My teacher kept talking to me about dancing schools and scholarships, and my parents (who had always been rather disinterested in the lives of their children) began calling up friends and looking up schools for young ballerinas.

My brother was somewhat less enthusiastic.

One could best imagine my parents' attention as soup being ladled out from a pot. Even though we were both served meager portions, I had always gotten the smaller amount, while my older brother, with his good grades and excellent high school basketball career, always got a little bit extra.

However, in a matter of days, our roles had been reversed, and that had confused him.

I can't remember what I had done that morning, but I remember the afternoon. The silliness of my mood had infected my feet, so I pulled on a white summer dress and went out in the backyard and danced on the grass, practicing and playing with Daisy, who would try to follow me, but always ended up tripping on her clumsy puppy paws. I felt like I was a bird, and it seemed like my feet weren't quite touching the ground.

But then my brother came out.

I remember him stopping, and Daisy let out her yip in acknowledgement of his presence. There was something cold in Milliardo's eyes, something alien. I took a step back, but I tripped and landed on my bottom, and scooted away from him until I bumped against the walkway lined with heavy stones.

"You're taking their attention away from me, Relena." He growled, "I'm a sophomore in high school, and you're just a seventh grader. Why should they care more about you? What have you done that's so special?"

He pulled up a stone from the walkway and held it over my ankle. I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn't understand why he was attacking me.

"Don't stand out, Relena. Don't distract any attention away from me."

He didn't mean to drop the rock--it was an accident. The wet grass was slick under his bare feet. He slipped and he lost his grip on it. I still remember the sickening crunch of the bone and Daisy's howl as I looked up at his frightened face.

Shocked, Milliardo pulled the rock off my broken ankle and grabbed me by the shoulders. "Don't tell anyone I did it, Relena," he begged, "Don't say anything."

Then the world went black.

And what had I done over the years? I did as I was told. I never said anything. I never did anything. I had turned from a the girl who couldn't care less what people thought, to the girl that everyone wanted to be--but I never stood out. If someone had an opinion, I backed them up. I couldn't speak for myself. Even though my ankle healed, I stopped dancing. I told everyone I hated it.

My brother only smiled slyly.

Gradually, the whirlwind of excitement I had brought up around me faded into a soft murmur of a breeze. I was not Relena anymore. I was not anyone. I was a doll.

I was the panther pacing behind bars, too scared to find a way out.

I think that I would have backed down again and bowed to his wishes. I think I would have let him have his way until I died.

But I saw something through the corner of my eye, and that moment changed everything.

I saw Heero watching from the shadow of the hallway, not interfering.

And I realized that this was my fight.

I realized that I had been locked in a cage of my own making, and that in my soul, I held the key.

I jerked out of my brother's hands and took a step back. I think I had a challenging expression on my face because he scowled in response.

"Relena--"

"No." I said, and even though my voice sounded normal, it felt different to me as it reverberated in my brain--stronger, more resolute.

This was not the response my brother expected. Numbly, he echoed, "No?"

I grinned at that expression, a sight I had longed to see for years, "No. I _want_ to dance."

"Relena--"

I smiled at him and interrupted, "Don't say anything. I don't care. I do not need to listen to you. I want to dance until I'm sick of dancing and I want to do something else. I don't want to do it for attention, I want to do it for myself. All your life, Milliardo, you tried to do what you thought Mom and Dad would see. You wanted visibility. You needed admiration.

"But you know what?" I said, "I don't. You can hurt me if you want, you can even break both my ankles, my wrists too, if you like. In fact, you could kill me. Go ahead and kill me right here and I still won't back down. I don't need it anymore."

He moved forward, but I stepped back again, "I suppose I will be afraid for the rest of my life and I will always fear confrontation. But I realize that right now, and I can prepare for it."

His expression shifted into that of fury, his skin melting and molding into a smoldering mask of rage. "Relena, I'm your brother. I've always looked out for you before, why wouldn't I now? I'm doing what's best--"

__

"--for yourself," I finished. 'And it's time I came to realize that. I don't need to hurt you for what you did to me because I suspect that it won't make a difference to you. I've changed and grown, and I think that it is time you left me alone."

He came forward one last time, well beyond the capability to speak, so I swung my arm back and slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

I don't think it was the blow that made him stop, but the shock that I hit back. For once, the mouse clawed the cat. For once, the tree refused to bend to the wind.

And, with a hand pressed against his stinging cheek, he left me alone and in triumphant possession of the walkway.

I turned to Heero, then, and smiled when he walked out of the shadow, "Why didn't you come to me?" I asked softly, and I think I was frowning.

He shrugged, "It was your fight. My father once told me that some battles are best fought alone."

I shook my head, "I don't think I could have done it alone, though." I looked back up to him, "There was a moment when I was going to give up and let him win again, but I saw you in the doorway, watching. I wanted to be stronger then, more than I ever wanted in my whole life. Suddenly, it was as if bowing down wasn't worth it."

"Then some battles are best fought alone, with good friends standing by in case of trouble you can't deal with alone."

I smiled then, the first real smile I'd worn in years.

It felt good.

"How did you get out of class?"

Heero reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a rumpled pass, "I said I had to go to the bathroom." Suddenly, I felt strangely impulsive and grabbed his hand.

He was grinning slightly too, not exactly a smile, but close enough, "Relena, I don't know if--"

My face turned solemn, but I continued holding his hand, even if he wasn't really responding, "I don't need Davey anymore either. I feel like I can do anything right noweven throw him out with yesterday's garbage."

He looked away, "It's not that."

"I know."

"My father--I have pictures of him when he was youngeryou knowour age."

"What about it?"

"Did you know that he looked just like me?" Heero said slowly, carefully bringing up his head to look at me, " He had blond hair, but his eyes were just like mine, his figure, his smile--they're all his. I don't want to become--"

"I know." I whispered, "and you won't."

He pulled away from me completely, "But I was. The minute I lost my head, I acted exactly like he would have. I struck out at the nearest thing, even though it was someone I cared about."

"But your heart is yours, Heero, and my instincts say that it is a good one."

And suddenly, we became aware of the sound of shouting. One of the patrolling administrators was yelling at us to go back to class before we were suspended.

Of course, not everything was resolved right then and there, and nothing all at once, but I think it's better this way. It leaves a bit of mystery to our lives, and a great deal of challenge. Once someone decides to fight back, it means they have to continue doing so every single day for the rest of their lives. And there were many times when I thought the battle wasn't worth it.

We were luckier than most though. We had someone to support us when the other stumbled, and someone to talk to when we felt trapped.

The past is something that is difficult to deal with, but it can never be locked away behind doors or trapped inside hearts. The past helps us forge the future.

So, it was with a different kind of heart that I bent down and picked up the crumpled the acceptance letter and Heero and I went back to class.

The air was still cold with winter, but it had a flavor of spring in it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This story was perhaps one of the most difficult undertakings I have every dared in my short career as a writer. The topic of abuse is always a touchy one, but never really mentioned. Most people imagine abuse to be afflicted on adults by adults, or on children by adults. Very few people ever consider the topic of abuse among teenagers. Many girls just beginning relationships don't know what to expect or what is right or wrong. They are often abused by boys of their own age, not even knowing that what happened to them was a **_crime_**, and a serious one at that.

The most susceptible women and girls to abuse are those who were abused in their childhood and those who are very well educated. Oftentimes they consider these abuses to be punishments to themselves that needed to be dealt out. Abuse only occurs because the woman lets it happen. Indeed, Relena was very lucky in out story that her brother was too shocked to hurt her even more. If you or someone you know is or has been abused by a person, the best thing to do is **_get away_**. Nothing else matters. Report it, tell your parents, your counselor, your friend, whoever you feel comfortable with, but tell someone and get help to get out. There are numerous hotlines, support groups, and online clubs who can provide information and support, but the main message I want to get out is this: NOT ONLY WIVES ARE ABUSED. No one can force you to do anything you don't want to do, and every girl is susceptible to being abused. It doesn't "happen to other people." It happens every day everywhere.

I also added in Heero's point of view as that of a person who did abuse someone, and how they felt about it. Many men (and some women!) abuse someone because they fear losing control, or they witnessed it themselves in their own household. Sometimes a person who was traumatized ends up venting his frustration on someone else, and that person needs just as much help, support, and understanding as any battered woman or girl.

Thank you very much for reading my fic!


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